Deadwood, Revisited
by Toonks
Summary: Pretty much what I thought might have happened if this fantastic show had continued past its third season. This script does take a few liberties with the story: it omits the fact that Jen had a coffin provided for her, and I spelt Doc's name wrong. Enjoy.


**DEADWOOD, REVISITED**

_The scene opens in Al Swearengen's office in the early morning. He is seated behind his desk, on which sits a half-empty bottle of whiskey, a shot glass and several wrinkled papers. There is a letter in his left hand, which he reads with the aid of a magnifying glass, held in his right. A faded blood stain is seen on the floor in the centre of the room. Swearengen clears his throat, placing the letter and magnifying glass down on the desk. He reaches for the shot glass and bottle, pausing halfway having caught sight of the blood stain. Looking at it contemplatively, he licks his lips. He then foregoes the glass and grabs solely the bottle, pulling out the cork and drinking heartily from it. He places it down and exhales as there is a knock at the door. Swearengen grabs the bottle, shot glass, letter and magnifying glass and places them all in his upper desk drawer._

**AL: **Yeah? [_Doctor Cochran walks in with a dour expression as Al looks up; forebodingly_] One of those cunts taking a turn now – in a direction that ain't on the request of a trick, that is – that's something I need as much as the Sioux need taking another ass-fucking from us, their more civilised contemporaries. In short, Doc, if your news is anywhere south of fucking moderate—

**DOC:** [_Holding up a hand_] I ain't seen to the whores yet this morning.

**AL: **Well thank Christ your commission ain't dependent on it, huh? [_He glares at Cochran; suddenly, a thought occurs_] If your business is with the remains of that other one, that's something you ought know better about.

**DOC:** No, I'm not here for Jen's body, as by now I'd expect that to be a lost cause. [_He hesitates, then closes the door behind him and moves to sit in the chair across from Swearengen_] Why I'm here—

**AL:** Well, by all means, come the fuck in!

**DOC: **[_Sits, removes his hat_] As much as I'm sure your reasons for not wanting her examined were warranted, I'd want to know—

**AL: **For one fucking thing, if the time ever presents itself that you can convey to me something bout a slit throat that I don't already know, Doc, I'd be grateful you finding right and proper occasion to dish out that fucking knowledge, releasing me from my earthly fucking presence.

**DOC:** All the same, I'd be curious…

**AL:** Making me likewise as to why?

**DOC:** That girl, Al… That poor fucking whore. [_His voice wavering_] She needn't have been done for like that, dispensed for a cause that she had no way of seeing as to her part in, like… Like an ignorant foot soldier in a conflict that she had no use for or investment towards or benefit to gain from her involvement. And there ain't nothing you can say, Al, that's gonna fucking change that!

**AL:** [_Stands; menacingly_] You voicing your endorsement for the fucking alternative?

**DOC:** [_Raising his hands up_] I'm saying that what happened was wrong. And, perhaps in an attempt to recompense our sinful misgivings—

**AL:** I don't recall your hand upon mine what spilt that whore's blood.

**DOC:** Those of us all, Al, in the camp that allowed this fucking travesty. To alleviate the inexorable guilt of this transgression—

**AL:** [_Stands while nodding, walking to the window_] You'd have had the cunt seen to?

**DOC:** [_Turning on his chair to face Swearengen's back_] As best as my restricted skills could extend to the task. I would've had it be she looked her best in this undignified passing. And I'd have seen to a proper fucking burial too, as far as that goes.

**AL:** [_Without turning around_] Couldn't risk it.

**DOC:** [_Enraged_] You indicate, as your malevolent and ungodly goddamned reasoning, the risks presented by _my_ fucking procedures?

**AL: **[_Turning to face Cochran; with conviction_] Those presented by fucking others, less concerned with the why of things and more riled about the who. [_Cochran appears unsure of his meaning; Swearengen moves slowly back to his seat_] Trixie being well-known as she is in the camp for her Jew-fucking, it ain't prudent course to see that other one paraded through the thoroughfare on the sled half fucking guillotined, should Hearst prove himself further to be the scheming, underhanded cocksucker we know him to be and receive reports of my subterfuge in presenting him with the wrong bloodied cunt [_Sits_] from his eyes that still linger here amongst us.

**DOC:** [_Tentative understanding_] That might witness her passing to my surgery?

**AL:** [_Nods_] Everything weighed in turn and fucking accounted for, Johnny – when he'd composed himself with maturity and foresight as a fucking adult – had her ferried in darkest night.

**DOC:** To Wu's pigs.

**AL: **Out the back, in guise of one of the many fucking hoopleheads might otherwise have done to deserve such a venture.

**DOC:** [_Nodding resignedly_] Alright…

**AL:** [_Pointing at Cochran; sternly_] And, being that my endeavours over the previous year have yielded no fucking respite from the attempts to assuage the constant pain in my balls manifested by the upright and unwavering Bullock – who just now seems to have begun comporting himself as a sensible-thinking fucking ally who realises that the right thing don't always run parallel to what's best in the long run – the last thing I need now is you declaring yourself partial to a conscience and bearing down on me with your fucking morality and righteousness!

**DOC:** [_Confused and indignant_] And what previous deeds have I enacted, Al, to your knowledge that demonstrates me as not possessive of a fucking conscience? Of my innate goddamned humanity? How dare you designate me as to your equal in these fucking matters, you son of a bitch!

**AL:** [_Derisively_] Oh then, if what I bespeak of your person rings false, please accept my humble fucking offerings of tight-balled contrition, Your Holiness! Him what was nailed up for the treacherous sins of us all could learn a thing or two from you about the cleanliness of fucking thoughts, eh Doc? [_Leaning forward; frankly_] You need to understand that this is _not_ the last any of us is gonna hear of this shit. My shortness with you is not my showing you my ass so you can adopt a greater fucking appreciation for it. My discourteousness is that of a man employing cautious fucking thinking. [_Opens drawer, producing letter which he throws on the desk_] A letter, from the almighty cocksucker himself.

_A long pause. Cochran stares anxiously at the letter while Swearengen's gaze remains fixed on Cochran._

**DOC: **[_Looking up_] Hearst?

**AL: **[_Nodding_] It ain't exactly rife with well-wishing sentiments, or the like.

**DOC:** You received this overnight?

**AL:** Conveyed to me by E.B. – whose care it was in at the behest of Hearst – this very morning.

**DOC: **[_Impatiently_] And what do its fucking _contents_ communicate to you, Al? Or to anyone in the goddamned camp?

**AL: **[_Produces the whiskey bottle and two shot gasses from the drawer, placing them on the desk_] Calm the fuck down, Doc. This is not something we wanna discuss in a temperament that don't find us mutually devoid of tones like _that_. [_Begins pouring into the first glass_] Let's act the fucking part. Comrades, and so forth, huh?

**DOC: **I do _not_ want a fucking drink.

**AL: **[_Pours into the second glass; grinning_] Lucky for you, I always like to keep a fucking spare.

**DOC: **[_Resolutely_]The letter, Al?

_Swearengen raises a shot to his lips and drains it, letting out a heavy sigh and slamming the glass back down onto the desk._

**AL:** Privileged beings that we are, it seems we ain't seen the last of the rancorous cunt Hearst.

**DOC:** [_Hesitantly_] I wouldn't have thought it a gamble to suppose that he'd make a return…

**AL:** Not so fucking fast as this. [_Looks at Cochran; gravely_] Within a fucking month.

**DOC:** [_Stunned_] Back to Deadwood? In a goddamned _month_?

**AL:** Is what's fucking writ. [_Contemplatively_] Whether it's true or some fucking tactic to see us running in circles all but drowning in our own fear-induced shit heaps is what I've been ruminating on all morning.

**DOC:** And to which side do you further incline?

**AL:** [_Definitively_] What I think and how I go about it ain't the business of anyone don't reside inside my fucking head. [_Conceding_] That fucking said, I will confide that… [_Baffled_] There's no fucking angle as to it being untrue that I can perceive.

**DOC:** [_Nodding; ominously_] He means to return…

_Swearengen and Cochran share an uneasy look between them before Cochran reaches for the second shot glass, draining it as Al had done with the previous one._

**AL:** [_Smugly_]All in its rightful place, eh Doc?

_Cochran glances defiantly at Swearengen before wiping at his lips, standing and putting on his hat. He walks to the door and, with his hand on the handle, turns once more to Swearengen_

**DOC:** I have other duties with which to attend. I'm sure you'll handle this with your typical— [_Stops, considers; tentatively_] What actions of mine make you say that, Al? My not having a conscience?

**AL:** [_Stands suddenly; incensed_]Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Doc! Recent developments notwithstanding, is that an enquiry you really ought be fucking pursuant of?

**DOC:** [_Earnestly_] I wanna know, Al.

_Swearengen smooths his right hand over his face in exhaustion before sitting again._

**AL:** I've not currently the fucking patience or tact to suffer this topic at any length of discussion so – if I have your guaranteed fucking assurance that this will not combust into any sort of argument or debate and that the ever-hardening grip your exhibiting on my balls will ease up – then yes, I will fucking relent.

**DOC:** [_Nods_]Agreed.

**AL:** [_Sighs heavily_] No such natural cause saw to the passing of that cockeyed reverend last year, as I'm sure you well know, Doc. [_A cruel whisper_] Not exactly in keeping with "do no harm", that sort business.

_Cochran looks at Swearengen in disbelief for awhile, before his expression changes to exasperation, followed by fury. He opens his mouth to speak._

**AL:** And, overlooking what I'm sure is a deeply unexpected revelation, I'd appreciate you're adherence to the fucking terms we agreed upon. Alright, Doc?

_Cochran raises his shaking fist at Swearengen, pointing it at him angrily. He turns back to the door, opening it and seeming about to leave. He suddenly turns back to Swearengen._

**DOC:** Let me just fucking say that I had not even the slightest goddamned notion—

**AL: **You though him to have been borne by angels in the care of _[Pointing at himself_] the devil? C'mon, Doc. That shit's too slippery to even leave a stain.

_Cochran exhales heavily, seems about to say something else, then shakes his head grimly, walking out of the office and fiercely slamming the door behind him. Swearengen's gaze falls once again upon the blood stained floor, his eyes conveying a dim regret._


End file.
